KARIS

The three of us paused where the dome used to be, just in front of Watchtower thirty-four, where this insane journey first began. I knew the tower was weathered, but it had always seemed sturdy enough when I climbed the rungs each night. Seeing it now with fresh eyes was a different story. The weathered wood was gray and depressing, slivers curling toward the sun. It looked like a stiff wind could easily blow it over.

The entire trek back to this spot had been much the same. Faery would take an immensely long time to be restored, at this rate. It was good to see it underway, but sad to know how much had been destroyed.

“Who’s there?” a young man stuttered from the balcony of the tower. “Iric, is that you?” he asked, relief coloring his voice.

“Hamish,” Iric replied.

We walked purposefully into Ironton with Hamish hollering at our heels that fae weren’t allowed inside the city. When I heard the string tighten on his bowstring, I turned and shook my head. “Not a good idea.”

“They’re ash arrows,” he retorted.

“I don’t care what they’re made of. I’ll snap you in two if you shoot one of us.”

His eyes widened and he pointed the arrow at the ground, easing the string back to a resting position. Smart boy.

“Tell everyone to be at the amphitheater at the top of the hour,” I instructed.

“I’m not doing your bidding, fae witch.”

Iric had heard enough. He doubled back and grabbed the surly guard by the collar. “Say another disrespectful word, Hamish, and I’ll throttle you.” Hamish winced, his face turning reddish-purple, and Iric shoved him backward. He stumbled, but managed to catch himself before he fell. “Do what she said. It’s important.”

Iric led me through Ironton, but mostly I followed my feet, the feel of the ground, and the paths I used to walk. This time, I could see it all. As we walked through the market, the eyes of every human found us and the murmurs began, a low hum that built in volume until it rivaled the damn tinkling bells. Loftin’s upper lip curled in disgust.

“The smell or the sound?” I asked.

“Both.”

“Told you it was bad. Hand-picked by Finean himself.”

Iric snorted. “You should’ve seen his face when he realized he’d killed himself. He wet himself, he was so scared to die.”

“With good reason,” Loftin added.

“No doubt,” Iric agreed. “I wouldn’t want to meet your dad under those circumstances.”

The living conditions were exactly as I’d pictured them. Tiny shacks and shanties leaned against each other, some sharing walls, made of whatever could be thrown together quickest, and patched with anything and everything that could be scavenged. The whole place reeked of feces, desperation, and despair, yet children laughed in the distance. I wondered if they still sang the lullaby, or if it was forbidden when the wall disappeared—a strange prophecy come to life.

Iric turned right and walked a few steps onto the porch of one of the nicer shacks. “Mother?” he called out.

Something banged inside, and then footsteps whispered across the floor as she ran. The door crashed open and Vivica threw her arms around Iric and wept. Once she composed herself, she examined me. “You brought him back to me,” she said, astonishment lacing her words. Then her eyes clamped onto the tips of my ears. “You’re fae,” she announced as she wiped her tears away with trembling fingers. “What of Gregoire?”

I shook my head. “Gregoire is dead.”

Her face crumbled and she began sobbing again. All this time she’d held out hope, and I just crushed it. However, there was still something I could do for her.

“Vivica?”

“What?” she rasped.

“I can make it so that you can see Roane and Gregoire.”

Vivica straightened and demanded, “Whatever it is, do it.”

“If I give you this gift, you’ll see all the Shades, not only your boys. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’ll see ghosts. I get it, but I don’t care. I want to see my boys. Please, Karis. I— Please.”

She marched closer to me, and Iric stepped to the side. Taking a deep breath, I covered her eyes with my right hand and closed my eyes, willing her to have the sight of the dead. When I removed my hand, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“They’re everywhere,” she breathed.

“Gregoire and Roane will come to you soon. They’ll sense that you can see them now.”

She nodded quickly and quietly backed away from me. “Okay. I can handle this,” she murmured to herself.

“If you can’t, have Iric find me. I’ll take it away.”

“No!” she yelled, and then composed her emotions. “Sorry, but no. I’ll get used to it. I want this gift. Thank you.”

When Iric informed her that everyone needed to go to the amphitheater and she was no exception, she argued, “But I have a visitor coming. I can’t.”

“The appointment is cancelled, Vivica, as well as any you have scheduled for the future. You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, crossing her arms. She was an unusual beauty. Strong but feminine, sharp but soft. And she was almost as calculating as my own mother had been, although not quite as cruel.

“He means you can stay here if you want,” I told her, “but I’ll see that you’re taken care of. You don’t have to live here. You don’t have to be a harlot anymore.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Her lips wobbled. “I haven’t been kind to you.”

“You gave me a place to stay when no one else would. It might only have been because of Iric, but you didn’t turn me away when I needed you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

No, she didn’t.

“But I’d appreciate it,” she added resolutely. “And if you could take care of my boys, I’d appreciate that, too.”

I smiled. “Consider it done.”

* * *

Iric found Mage, Root, and Dusty picking pockets at the amphitheater. Apparently, iron was in more demand than ever since the wall disappeared. They came running when he told them where to find me, but came to a screeching halt and stopped short of throwing their arms around my neck like they’d done a thousand times before.

“I’m still me,” I assured them. How could pointed ears illicit such a reaction? They were still my boys! “Nothing’s changed,” I said soothingly.

Dusty gaped. Mage swore. It was Root who voiced their concern. “But you’re fae!”

“I’ve been fae all along, silly, but I didn’t know I was until I crossed the wall.”

“Or else they changed you when you crossed over,” Mage accused, puffing his chest up at Loftin. “Are you the one responsible for this?”

Loftin winked at me and then faked a lunge, making them all scream and back away.

“Stop it,” I chided, swatting him as they came near again. I dropped to my knees and held out my arms. Dusty came to me first. When his brothers saw I didn’t hurt him, they came in for a quick hug before jumping back.

“Why did you come back here? The Governor declared that any fae on our land is a dead fae.” Mage shoved his hands in his pockets.

“They killed the Sloper girl. The Retriever,” Root added.

I felt Loftin tense behind me. We weren’t going there. They didn’t need to know his role in her fate. “Well, the Governor is going to listen, and you should, too. When I’m finished speaking, you’re all going to gather anything important that you can carry and meet me at Vivica’s. Got it?”

They nodded their heads, keeping their eyes trained on Loftin. Iric jogged up to me.

“Looks like everyone’s here.”

Turning, I climbed the steps to the amphitheater’s stage and listened to the collective gasp that came after. The Governor jogged up behind me, a dagger drawn. I waved my hand dismissively and turned it to ash. “If you’re quite finished, Governor, I have a few things to clear up.”

I told the assembled crowd that the dangerous Unseelie monsters were gone, leaving only the Seelie fae in Faery, and how the land was healing. It would be a long time before it was restored, but it was a beginning. I told them my favorite color was red, and that it didn’t matter what color hair they had or what color paint they used on their homes. We were united, and fae and humans could be friends. We could work together. I tried to erase the superstitions Finean gave them and told them that if they wanted a better life, they’d have to put aside their segregationist hatred and work together to build it—alongside the fae. Because there would be no more domes, no more smoke, no more separation. There would be no more Slopers and Trenchers.

“And for Faery’s sake, get rid of the damn bells,” I finished.

I left the stage and the people of Ironton behind, waving to my family to accompany us. Not long after we arrived, Duncan found us at Vivica’s. She and her five living sons, and both of her dead ones, followed us out of Ironton.

Loftin took us to the Court of Reflections, where only a few fae still remained. Most had already returned to their home courts to help with the restoration.

It was an impressive city, with buildings that rose high into the air, their intricate woodwork welcoming and warm. There were restaurants and gardens that produced beautiful crops. The boys ran into the fields, laughing and eating tomatoes like they were apples.

Vivica glanced around. “Where are we supposed to live?”

“Anywhere that isn’t already taken,” I announced cheerily. “I’m going there.” I pointed to the palace, its white polished marble gleaming in the sun. Her brows rose. Loftin just chuckled. “What? Finean owes me, and I intend to collect,” I sniffed.

“Are you setting up your own court?” Loftin asked seriously.

I rolled my eyes. “Hell, no. I just want a nice place to live, for once. And this is the nicest house around.”

“Well, let me know if you find an axe. I know a tree that needs to be cut down.”